original sin?
i really don’t get this. our daughter Naomi has special needs associated with down syndrome and she is full of grace. how can a person whose difference will likely render her remaining full of grace be considered a result of original sin?
she’s number ten for us. i don’t know why, really i don’t, but i’ve had very little grieving over her differences. once when she was tiny, i saw a local young man all dressed up beautifully, standing amongst other wedding guests at a nearby church. when i got alone, i did cry, because that young man has down syndrome. he was surrounded by a group of lovely young women, all talking with him, laughing chatting, and he would never be the love of any of their lives.
that was my single moment of grief-- deep, hard grief. and then it passed. it really passed. i didn’t have to talk myself down, re-decide or recommit. it just passed. that was a blessing from God, i know.
but the many countless moments of joy-- sheer joy-- in fact, by the end of her first week, Naomi had given herself the middle name joy because she is so much a Joy. the joy is uncountable-- even when she’s being a rascal-- loud, stubborn, insistent, whiney-- we still have a deep joy because of her.
i don’t know why i’m not more often sad. at first, my husband was. then he was healed of his “what shoulda mighta beens” and fell deeply in love with “who she really is.” we’re still in love with 'who she is becomming evey day."
but i know even struggling parents, sad parents, grieving parents LOVE their special needs kids. mostly parents grieve, NOT their lost dreams, instead they grieve for what the disability might mean for their child. most parents grieve unselfishly. they shouldn’t be treated as if their grieving was selfish. they shouldn’t be challenged to man up. they should, though, be listened to and helped to heal. not deny.
Naomi is 3 years old and still not walking. she’s close but not proficient. (you pray for her, OK?) she has some language, many signs, loves to say her prayers. she only knows poeple’s love. she’s not old enough to have experienced intentional meanness. even when people say not-so-helpful yet goodwill stuff like, “she doesn’t look like she has down syndrome.” or when people call her “a down syndrome child” (as opposed to “a child with special needs associated with down syndrome”) they are still doing so in an act of love and goodwill toward her.
if she’s ever scorned? i’ll grieve again, i’m sure.
is she special? yes. she’s special. and we’ve become special by our association with her. in fact, i never feel more loved by God than when I consider the astonishing gift he has given us in Naomi.
i have a son who’s a drug addict. he’s 24. the sorrow i’ve lived over that boy’s moral collapse, addiction, desperation and despair, and multiple disappearances weigh more than any sorrows of my life-- all combined and even multiplied. there’s nothing like that sadness.
what i see in him is not MY dreams shattered, but what I see in him are God’s dreams for him ignored, thwarted, rejected.
that’s the difference between my son and my daughter Naomi. he has rejected every perfect plan God has had for him (so far. i believe in miracles.) Naomi will NEVER reject God’s perfect plans for her.
if I had a hundred lifetimes to choose, i would not choose anything else than what God has chosen for Naomi. and what He has chosen for us in giveing Naomi to our family.
i know we have exactly the daughter God always planned for us (this is true for all our children-- ALL.). and she has the family God has always planned for her.
) didn’t like how she always won the spelling bee in 2nd grade and pushed her down and kicked her in the head on the lunchroom floor. And then the teacher cancelled the spelling award for the class because your child always won.